


What I Deserve

by pastelbluebirds



Series: A Basket Full of Reader-Inserts [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Molly Hooper, F/F, Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Runaway Brides, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:34:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26817436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelbluebirds/pseuds/pastelbluebirds
Summary: "You're," Molly started slowly. She took all of you in, her heart quickening at the sight of you. "supposed to be getting married.""I know." You said, walking towards her. "I left."
Relationships: Molly Hooper/Reader
Series: A Basket Full of Reader-Inserts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/965292
Kudos: 7





	What I Deserve

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to start off by saying this: If feels good to write again.
> 
> You must be asking: Where have you been? Why have you been gone for so long?
> 
> And if not, I'll tell you anyway because you deserve an explanation.
> 
> I had be struck with the worst case of writer's block. It was like all the creative was drained from my body and it honestly hurt. Every word I wrong felt wrong and, on top of that, this year has been mad disrespect. I wanted to cry.
> 
> I don't know when, but I suddenly snapped out of it. Words just seemed to appear on paper and everything seemed right again. Writing felt right, posting felt right.
> 
> And here I am. To celebrate, I want to share this cute fic that I wrote. I tried a new writing style, so that was fun. On another note, have I ever told you guys how much I fucking love Molly Hooper? I want to marry that woman.

"You look so beautiful." Mummy coo'd sweetly, smoothing out the invisible wrinkles in your dress. She fluttered about, showering you in compliments and congratulating you on your big day.

Your big day.

You always thought it would be different. That when you walked down the aisle, your one true love would be standing there at the altar. An earsplitting grin on their face and tears in their eyes as they realized that this was really happening.

But that was not the case. Instead you were getting married to some man you didn't love—and you were certain he didn't love you either. You didn't even know his name. You were sure your mother had repeated it many times before, but you had never really bothered to listen. 'How dreadful.' You thought. This was supposed be the happiest day of your life. And yet it was the worst.

"What's the matter, dear?" Mummy asked with mild concern. "You nervous?"

"I can't do this." You told her. Mummy rolled her eyes and tut-tutted softly to herself, shaking her head.

"Now you're just being dramatic." She said dismissively. You whipped around and glared at her, causing her to stumble back.

"I'm really not." You argued firmly. "I don't want this. Not with him."

"And what's wrong with him?" Mummy asked.

"Everything!" You cried out. "I know nothing about him-"

"Because you haven't made an effort-"

"And he has?!" You yelled defensively. "We hate each other. Always have, since the moment we locked eyes."

"It's natural for couples to dislike one another." Mummy said. "That animosity fades with time."

"Lies." You scoffed. "It's been a year since we've been engaged and we still harbor hatred for one another. He never takes me seriously and I can't stand to listen to him."

"It can't be that bad."

"Do I honestly have to spell it out for you? This relationship is toxic!" You told her. "We can barely be in the same room together without us having an argument."

"Just a little domestic."

"And when he has the balls to talk to me-"

"Young lady, you watch your mouth!"

"-it's always about him." You continued, ignoring her squawking about decency and lady etiquette. "His future, his life, his dreams. Not once is it ever about me."

"And that bothers you?" Mummy asked. How could she ask something like that with a straight face?

"Yes!" You shouted incredulously. "And it should bother you too."

"Why should it?" Mummy asked. You honestly couldn't tell if she was purposely being clueless or if it was genuine confusion.

"I'm suppose to marry this jerk. We should be talking about our future and our dreams. Like a normal couple." You explained.

"Ok..." She still didn't get it.

"Don't you understand? I am just another trophy to be put on display." You told her.

"There's nothing wrong with being a trophy wife."

"Of course _you_ would think that." You sniped. "I don't know why I bother to explain myself to you."

"You will _not_ speak to me this way." Mummy scowled. "I am your mother, I deserve some respect."

"You still don't understand." You pressed. "I was happy-"

"Don't." Mummy spat. "I let you have your fun, but it is time for you to grow up and stop it with this phase." She said. "As my eldest, you need to set an example for your sister."

"And what example is that?" You griped.

"That sometimes you have to make sacrifices." Mummy said. You laughed bitterly and turned away from her.

"You can never let me be happy." You muttered.

"Don't start with me!" Mummy snapped. "I did what was best for you." She said before quickly adding: "I am _doing_ what is best for you!" You wondered who she was trying to convince.

"I'm sure you are." You said with a sarcastic smile.

"You really shouldn't test me." Mummy said seriously, taking one big stride forward so you were almost chest to chest. "You will go on with this wedding or so help me-"

"Or so help you, what?" You challenged.

"Or so help me, I will disown you." Mummy retorted.

"Is that so?"

"Absolutely. Now then," Mummy smiled innocently. "what is it going to be?" But you never got the chance to answer; a knock resonated on your door before it cracked open.

"Everything alright?" Daddy asked, completely oblivious to the tense situation between you and Mummy.

"Yes, Daddy." You replied through gritted teeth. Thus putting an end to your spat. Mummy smiled triumphantly, turning on her heels and leaving you in the dust. You huffed and turned back to the mirror, staring into your reflection.

She was right. You were beautiful.

Your ivory ballgown was vintage; backless with long sleeves and plunging neckline. The bodice was lace and the skirt was satin with an impressive train. The two-tier veil rested at your fingertips and had scallop edges. It actually resembled a mourning veil, which you thought was pretty neat. Your hair and makeup were simple yet elegantly. Your nails were painted aquamarine and donned with tiny diamonds. And lastly there was your bouquet, which was neatly round with hydrangeas and spray roses.

You were beautiful. Everything was beautiful. But this was not what you envisioned. This is not your dream wedding.

It was his.

"Look at you." Daddy entered the room, coming to stand behind you. "A beauty, that's what you are." He complimented.

"Thanks." You said softly.

"Come." He said, stepping back and extending his arm to you. "Let's get you hitched." You steadied yourself before locking your arm with his. 'This is it.' You thought as you were led out towards your fate. You couldn't help but smile as the flower girl sprinkled fresh petals along with isle, your bridesmaids trailing behind her with their groomsmen. But then your smile vanished. It was your turn now. "Are you ready?" Daddy asked, and you simply nodded. He frowned in concern, but figured it was just wedding jitters. Then he started marching. The guests stood up, cooing and whispering amongst themselves. Their eyes piercing you from all angles. You tightened your grip on your bouquet and shut your eyes.

Stop....

Stop...

Stop!

Your eyes snapped open and you came to a halt. "Sweetheart?" Daddy's frown deepened as he stared down at you. "What's the matter?"

"I...I can't do this." You stuttered, unlatching your arm from his and taking a step back. "I can't do this." You repeated with more certainty and confidence.

"Stop it." Mummy said, stepping out onto the isle and stomping towards you.

"No." You shook your head.

"Stop this nonsense right now!" She screamed, reaching out to grab you. You took another step back, smiling when your father took hold of her. Keeping her at bay.

"No." You said. "I have somewhere else to be." You said while making your exit.

"You can't leave." Mummy said. "You have a responsibility to this family. To your guests." And that actually gave you pause.

"I suppose you're right." You said. "I can't just leave." Mummy sighed with relief.

"Very good, darling. Now le-"

"I can't leave without tossing the bouquet." You continued, crushing her dreams right then and there. "After all," You giggled. "it is tradition. Good fortune and all that." Twisting on your heels, you counted to three and then threw your bouquet into the air. Glancing over your shoulder, you smiled upon seeing the lucky winner. Your darling little sister. "Good luck." You said. And you meant it. "So sorry, folks." You went on to apologize. Halfheartedly, of course. "I really must be going though. Things to do, people to see. I'm sure you know how it is." You rambled, sending air kisses in all direction while hastily backing out of the chapel.

"Young lady, get back here this instant!" But you just waved her goodbye and, before anyone could stop you, you hit the ground running. Weaving through the streets with your pretty dress bunched tightly in your fists. The crowd of people parted like the Red Sea and you laughed like a madman.

You had done it.

You were free.

"Please be there. Please." You mumbled under your breath, pushing yourself to run faster.

You don't know how long you ran for. But you didn't care because you were where you needed to be: Saint Bartholomew's. You walked into the hospital, your chest heaving and sweat on your brow. You ignored the hundreds of eyes on you and the curious whispers as you made your way to the morgue. You knew how to get there. You can't count how many times you've been. Down there, in the basement level, it was quiet. While the occasional doctor or nurse passed by, the halls were completely empty. 'This is it.' You thought as you arrived at your destination. You could hear voices inside, but it was muffled. Although you could clearly hear that one familiar voice, which warmed you to your core and made your heart flutter. 'This is it.' You repeated. Smoothing out your dress and fixing your viel, you stepped inside.

All previous conversation ceased. You took in your surroundings, noting that there were people you didn't know here. A tall brunette and a short silvery-blonde. 'Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.' Your mind supplied. The famous crime solving duo. But you weren't really focused on them. You were looking for one person and that was-

"You..."

"Me." You smiled at Molly. "Hello, my love."

"You're," Molly started slowly. She took all of you in, her heart quickening at the sight of you. "supposed to be getting married."

"I know." You said, walking towards her. "I left."

"You left your own wedding?" Molly inquired, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Actually," You shuffled about awkwardly before lifting the skirt to reveal your wedges. Pretty and simple. Perfect for running too, apparently. "I ran." You said sheepishly.

"Why?" Molly asked, completely taken aback. "Why would you do that?"

"I couldn't go through with it." You replied, reaching out to grab her hands. She quickly took your own and held them tightly in hers, sighing in content. She missed you and it showed. This made you happy because you missed her all the same. "I never stopped loving you." You told her. "It broke my heart when you left."

"I had to leave." Molly said sadly. "Your mum threatened to disown you and take away your inheritance. I couldn't do that to you." She said, shaking her head. 'There she goes being selfless again.' You thought. Molly was so sweet, always thinking of others and their needs. That's why you loved her. Because even though it meant losing you, she didn't want your mother to take what was rightfully yours or to cut ties with you. "She's your family and I'm-"

"The love of my life." You interjected.

"I..." Molly was at a loss for words. "You really mean that?" She asked quietly, tears prickling the corners of her eyes.

"I do." You said firmly. "I love you, Molly Hooper. And there is no one else I'd rather be with."

"I feel the same way." Molly said softly. Giving you one last squeezed, she pulled back and then reached out to unveil you. Her hands shaking slightly with restrained eagerness. "May I?" She asked, already gripping the thin fabric of your veil.

"Please." You ducked your head, your eyes fluttering close as your veil was slowly pulled back. You kept them closed, leaning forward until you and her were nose to nose. Breathing the same air. "I missed you."

"I missed you." Molly echoed. "And I love you." She said sweetly, which had you choking back sobs. "I love you." She repeated. "I love you, I love you, I love you." Over and over, she confessed her love. Until, finally, she bridged the gap between you.

And everything just felt right.

You sighed in content and wrapped your arms around her neck, deepening the kiss. She responded in kind, putting her hands on your hips and bringing you closer.

"Huh."

Oh! You and Molly quickly separated, clumsily spinning about to face the two men still in the room. You were so eager to be with Molly, you completely forgot they were there.

"I should've known." Sherlock said. "Your sudden obsession with me makes _much_ more sense now."

"Way to kill the mood. It was so sweet too and you just ruined it." John sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Seriously, now _really_ isn't the time."

"Now is the perfect time." Sherlock insisted.

"No, not really."

"Don't tell me you're not the least bit curious. Just think about it, really think about it." Sherlock continued. "You," He turned back to Molly. "were so stricken with grief and heartache that your mind provided a temporary distraction: me." Sherlock explained, his lips stretching out into a grin. He looked like he just won the lottery; ecstatic that he finally solved the mystery of Molly Hooper. "Love truly is fascinatingly messy."

"Leave them alone, Sherlock." John said. "They've clearly been through enough."

"Clearly." Sherlock echoed.

"Is he always like that?" You asked Molly, feeling more amused than embarrassed.

"Always." Molly replied with an exasperated sigh.

"Anyways!" John cleared his throat, feeling somewhat flustered. "Congratulations to both of you." He said. "You deserve it."

"Thank you." Molly said shyly, her ears tinted red. You laughed wholeheartedly and kissed her cheek. She smiled and responded in kind, nuzzling close to you. She was at peace once again.

She was at home, back in your arms. And you felt the same way.

He was right too. You did deserve this.

Both of you.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the fic. I had fun writing this. I loved writing this. Honestly, I think this is the gayest thing I ever wrote and that fills with me such happiness.
> 
> I have something else to share before I go: I have a job! I've had one for awhile. I work five days out of the week from three to eleven, which is honestly exhausting. But I like it. I don't want this to change things though. I don't want to abandon you guys. I miss this. I miss writing. I don't want to give that up anytime soon.
> 
> I will continue to write new chapters for my multi-chapter projects. It might take awhile, but try to be patient with me.
> 
> Comment and share some love. I love you all and I will write soon.


End file.
